


Life Begets Life

by seraphicrose



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Other characters are mentioned or appear in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23029771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphicrose/pseuds/seraphicrose
Summary: “What is it but a formality, dear sister?” The Lord of Time replies at length, never so much as looking at her. “In the time after time, you will give birth to me again.”
Kudos: 7





	Life Begets Life

**Author's Note:**

> Gift from a private exchange made for a dear friend who prefers to remain anonymous. Thank you for always believing in me.

The room in the sanctum is circular and adorned with mirrors, and crystal ornaments. All around the Bronze and their Sworn have gathered. She is not sure of the occasion, but Nozdormu's invitations are rare and far between, and usually came with a hidden meaning. He sits opposite the door, usually alone, she supposes, but today a lavish bench has been placed two steps over and behind him to be her place.

Her brother has chosen the form of a human with sun-kissed skin, dark hair, and darker eyes, his clothing such as is common among desert-dwellers. It's unassuming, and Alexstrasza herself has not deemed necessary to go a similar path when she chose her mortal guise today.  
Her own skin brings to mind the earth of the Redridge Mountains, while her hair is spun copper. She is a Vrykul woman, strong and graceful, clothed in red linen and the pelt of a bear. Rarely does she forgoe her horns in mortal guise, and today is no exception. They are her crown, and everyone knows it.

In an alcove to their left sits her brother's prime consort with her attendants, her son Anachronos at her side. Soridormi is like a statue, shrouded in white and gold, her crystalline eyes harder than the elementium plates their fallen brother adorns himself with. Curious, Alexstrasza muses briefly to herself, but soon abandons it. The door opens and someone enters; she recognises Aillendormi the Golden, even in guise of a human woman.

The Lord of Time's favoured child; though not of Soridormi's brood. She approaches her father, and to Alexstrasza's surprise he keeps her from kneeling to perform the traditional greeting with a hand on her arm. Aillendormi turns her golden eyes up to her father's face and touches her forehead with her left hand.  
As the child turns away from her father to make her way into the center of the room, Alexstrasza finds herself thinking about Caelestrasz and Vaelastrasz. About Lirastrasza. She hides the thoughtful curl of her mouth behind the goblet filled with wine for her leisure, and chooses to pose a question.

“Are you sure Anachronos was the right choice to be your heir?” She asks as she watches Aillendormi twirl about the room, her motions more poised than any mortal's could ever hope to be.

“What is it but a formality, dear sister?” The Lord of Time replies at length, never so much as looking at her. “In the time after time, you will give birth to me again.”

Alexstrasza remains motionless, unaffected, from her place as the only one elevated above the Bronze Aspect's seat. But for a long moment she gazes at Nozdormu’s profile deep in thought.

* * *

Vaelastrasz dying plea echoes throughout the bond she shares with all her flock, made stronger still by their direct bloodline. The ruby dragon tear she had been examining alongside Dahlia Suntouch is crushed between her fingers as she balls her fist. It stings, for it had been born of dragons and as such was able to penetrate her skin.

"My queen?", the steward queries. Alexstrasza shakes out her hand, gem splinters and tiny droplets of her blood spattering the earth below the dragonshrine's ruby oak, indistinguishable from one another. Flowers sprout seconds later, even as she turns away.

"Vael has crossed the Veil," She informs. Dahlia's gasp is anguished, and her voice is tearful when she replies. "What sorrow, my queen."

Alexstrasza half-turns, but only spares the dragonsworn a glance. "Dry your tears, Dahlia. He is in the Dream now, perching on the boughs of G'hanir like all before us and after us."

The words slip unto her tongue unbidden as she turns her gaze to the sky again.

"Besides, in time I will give birth to him again."

* * *

They have always called Korial her favourite, but it was untrue, for the Dragonqueen can have no favourites.

She has cherished him for his youthfulness, a pleasant contrast to Tyran's sprawling mind. And yet it was Tyranastrasz who would always be the only one fit to fly by her side, as he had done since before her charge.

She feels something akin to sorrow when she looses both of them at once, victims to her brother's plot. Still, to grieve them means to dishonour their service. Dying to protect life itself was in the nature of things, after all.

They take to the skies, all four of them united for the first time in centuries, as her children's wings darken the skies over Grim Batol. Ysera is to her left, small and lithe, ever seeming more a ghost than the most powerful of predators. Their understanding is unspoken, and with a subtle shift of her wings she turns away, flying off towards the Hinterlands. Malygos soars high above them, higher and higher, until she can hardly tell him apart from the brilliant blue of the sky. He had no words for her, and she supposes that is only just, for she had withheld her support to him when he needed it most; yet here he was, giving his to her all the same.

It leaves her with Nozdormu at her right. They are of similar size, and for a moment she idly wonders why Life was chosen to rule over Time when they were equal.

"Your loss is immeasurable, sister," Nozdormu's voice sounds in her mind, body, soul. There was a time she would have been furious at his empathy, for he knew all. But that time is long past.

"Life is immeasurable," Alexstrasza replies.

He hums, and in the next heartbeat he is gone, like the seconds that just passed her by.


End file.
